


Feeling Something Real

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Pre-Season 1, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-23
Updated: 2005-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-13 14:25:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine months prior to Gus' birth in the pilot- The Big Decision has been made... and Michael will have to *be there* for Brian when he crumbles...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was writing this while in Toronto, at the QAF Fans Convention... so this is for all those fans/readers/friends who had courage enough to meet me face-to-face and still managed to like me afterwards... and to those who liked me beforehand and manage to make me love you more and more at each meeting (QAF or Hal-related)... and to those who still have yet to meet me... but like what I write, even if it's all bullshit...

****

** YOU CAN LOVE ME NOW **

****

 

 __

 _ by The Hothouse Flowers _

__  
****

**You can lean on me... anytime,  
You can take my hand... I don't mind,  
Never ever worry... yeah,  
It mightn't ever happen,  
On the darkest night... come to me,  
When you feel alone... let it be,  
We won't let it win... yeah,  
Mightn't ever happen.**

 ****

 **You can love me now,  
You can love me now,  
You can love me now,  
I'm feeling something real.  
You can love me now,  
You can love me now,  
Take take take take take take take me...**   
**  
When I look in your eyes... I can see,  
There is nowhere... I would rather be,  
These are old wounds baby... yeah,  
It might just happen,  
It might just happen,  
It might just happen,  
It might just happen...**

 ****  
******************************************

Michael faced the doorway, quickly digging around for his set of keys. He felt the warm shove of hips against his backside, the gentle slide of fingers tickling his lower spine, then the plush lips pressing down on his exposed nape. The tongue perfectly traced the shaved hairline, suckling at the naked skin.

"I, uh... think my roommate's out. Might have the, uh..." Michael's lids shut in ecstasy, his eyes rolling back, his palms flat on the outer surface of the door. He leaned his perspiring forehead on the paneling, letting the nimble fingertips do their will.

His *date*'s pelvis thrust toward his well-rounded, clothed rear, telling of what could occur once inside the apartment... in a bedroom... on a bed. The silent warning of rough sex fairly clear. "I can DO you both, if he's still here..."

Michael, momentarily, inhaled a long breath. He hated when men did that. Hated when they let their raunchy imaginations roam free, only reminding him of the one person he continually tried to forget.

 ****

 **BRIAN.**

 ****

No... they weren't fighting. Never did. Brian wouldn't let a day, afternoon, evening or night go by without making contact, somehow, with Michael. They were too petty for disputes. Too horny to be picky about who each man got to bed each night. A majority of men were taken by Brian, but Michael, on rare occasions, had left with a trick or two himself. Michael could be like his best friend for only so long before he craved something more, something... tangible... something real.

Lately, Michael was trying to have a social life, trying to move beyond Brian and their need to constantly BE together. Those moments were giving him too many unobtainable fantasies. About Brian... and him... and dirty, perverted sex.

When other men mentioned any kind of *kink*... Michael wondered if Brian didn't always say the same thing on a nightly basis. Well... how would he know? He'd never been in the position to find out. And he meant that... literally. His dick didn't grow soft at the loss of drive toward sex with the stranger. In fact, he grew harder, but only at the imagery of any kind of sex... with Brian included.

A sour, metallic taste entered Michael's dry mouth. He was desperate enough to forego The Stud's mistake. Hell, the guy would never know how quickly he had slipped down Michael's DO-ME meter. He flipped over onto his back.

Michael opened his mouth to voice the "rules" of the evening when his cell phone rang. He smirked, held up a finger to press against the approaching lips. "Hold that thought. Excuse me..." Far be it for Michael to ever be unapologetically rude.

The Stud's curious hands took over and went exploring on their own.

Michael sucked in a quick shot of air, raising his eyes to the yellowed ceiling of the hallway, outside his apartment. "Hullo?" He murmured as the fingertips crawled their way to his waist, working effortlessly at beginning to undress him.

"Where the FUCK have YOU been?" The comment was always said with a bit of sarcasm, a smidgen of parental worry and a chasm of silent jealousy.

Michael sighed, knowing full-well who was on the other end. "What do you need now?" He was trying not to act as if he'd been disturbed from the first piece of decent ass he'd had in weeks.

Brian seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Michael having any ounce of fun without him. "What are ya' doing?" He sing-songed, clearly aware he was disrupting Michael's social scene, possibly retarding his very character.

"Laundry." Michael stated as he watched the head bow at his crotch, the fingers intricately undoing each tooth of the zipper.

"Mikey..." Brian's voice sounded on the verge of reprimanding, calling him a *liar*.

A noise sounded in Michael's apartment.

Brian grunted with pain in sync.

Michael recognized the sound resonating through his cell and hearing Brian grunt directly into his ear. "Brian..." He swiveled a little to look at his closed apartment door. "... where are you?" He scrunched his brow, prepared to quickly retreat if he discovered the truth, that Brian was closer then he thought.

"Uh... your bed... in nothing but a smile... a wing and a prayer..." Brian chuckled as he favored his right foot in his hand from stubbing his big toe on a hidden object on Michael's floor, under piles of dirty clothes. He was trying to clean up while he was here.

Michael placed his hand over the bottom edge of his phone, glancing down between his thighs. "Can I take a rain check?" He was already losing interest anyway.

"Wha-?" The Stud's dark-head lifted, momentarily stunned. He couldn't believe that someone had actually stopped his expert foreplay at this point.

"It's not you. It's..."

The Stud stood from his knees, fixing his jacket collar cuffs. "Family emergency, huh?" An eyebrow raised in curiosity, like he had heard excuses as lame as this or worse. A tiny grin flew out over moist, thick lips, the pink tongue licking the flesh.

"Well, sort of..." Michael held out his hands in his own defense.

"Then... I, sort of, have something better lined up. Sorry to disappoint..." The Stud was about to make Michael regret his sudden decision when the door opened.

Brian had heard the conversation over the phone line...

Michael teetered precariously in the air before Brian caught him swiftly in his arms, both biceps secure around Michael's trim form. "Hey... bay-bee..." Dilated doe eyes begged up at Brian to save him.

Brian swung Michael around to steal a quick... and extra long smooch. "Hey back..." He trailed the backs of his fingers down Michael's flushed cheeks, savoring the embrace for his audience. "... beautiful." He righted Michael's body, holding him under his arm, secure to his side. "Is this... HIM?" He glanced over toward the handsome stranger. His penchant for continual hunger for men way too obvious. Well, until they opened their mouths or bothered Michael.

"The *him*... who?" The Stud asked, swallowing with some difficulty. This moment felt like a set-up. That Michael might have lied about a supposed "roommate". That the man who was devouring him with his murky bedroom eyes was actually the "boyfriend" into some kinky shit, possibly involving threesomes.

Brian wiped the sides of his mouth. "You have excellent tastes, Mikey."

Michael reached up to clamp onto Brian's forearm, hanging off his shoulder, down his chest. The tricky fingers disappeared under Michael's jacket, swirling about his protruding nipples. "I... uh, learned from the best."

"Were you serious about leaving? Sure that offer was better then... this...?" Brian could have replaced the word "this" with "us".

Michael recognized pure fear when he saw the emotion.

The Stud's quick thought before, of *doing* Michael and his "roommate", seemed like a vague threat, hollow and forgotten.

"Have a nice evening." The Stud was gone way too suddenly and Michael frowned out of pity.

Michael watched the retreating perfect ass head down the flight of stairs at the end of the hall. "Was the prospect THAT difficult to imagine?"

"His loss, Michael." Brian dragged Michael in by the scruff of his neck, petting the exposed pale flesh above the shirt and jacket collar. He saw the tell-tale marks of redness that meant sexual foreplay had been very thorough and close to completion.

Michael dodged his head away from Brian's firey touch on his sensitive skin. "Yeah, thanks, by the way. That will surely comfort me, later tonight." He strolled further inside, taking off his jacket and throwing it on a chair back.

Brian walked over to pick up the discarded clothing, hanging it up in the makeshift closet on an empty hanger. He noticed how blase Michael was about his undone jeans. He saw the direction he was headed, to the kitchen, but reached out to tug Michael backward by his loosened belt loops. "Whoa!" He brought Michael's backside flush with his front. Inhaling a deep breath of will and courage, he spun Michael around by  
his hips. His fingertips exploring where the Stud's had been. "OFF or... ON...??"

Michael glanced down, eyeballing the well-manicured fingers playing with the zipper. Was he brave enough? "ON." No, apparently not.

"Mikey... Mikey... Mikey..." Brian murmured as he dipped his head, sweaty temple meshing with Michael's.

Michael swiftly turned away, slightly perturbed by Brian's interruption to the good portion of his *date*. His back facing Brian, he headed into the kitchenette to make busy work of his shaking hands. Trying to take his mind off wanting to touch, maybe fondle, his best friend like he seemed to need. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Brian hung his head, wiping at his weary eyes. He followed Michael, stopping at the fridge, leaning back on the cool, smooth surface. There was so much he wanted to vocalize, but was afraid to say because it was like a broken record.

Whenever Brian became too quite, contemplative... Michael would try to fill the silence until Brian found a place to break in on, feel comfortable to reveal his feelings. "When I left Woody's, I thought you were on your way to Babylon?"

"I was." Brian puffed out, pushing off the fridge to prepare in helping Michael with the dishes in the sink.

"Oh? The *buffet* wasn't that appealing?"

"Well, no... not..." Brian reached out to grab a dry dishtowel.

Half of his forearms covered in suds, Michael swiveled his head to look directly at Brian. "What? What is it?" The shameful downcast of Brian's eyes bespoke of something fairly heavy happening. "Something's wrong..."

Brian didn't like Michael staring at him so intently, seeing through his pride. "They called me."

They?

Michael was a tad confused, but soon realized what Brian was attempting to convey. "Wha-? I thought..." For, maybe, a minute he thought it would have been good news, but the way Brian was reacting... he could barely look Michael in the eye. "Lindsay's..." He tried to begin to help Brian make his statement.

"Not..." Brian slowly raised his head, his eyes darting into Michael's wide-eyed stunned ones. "... yeah..."

Michael's mouth remained in the shape of the exclamation of "Oh!" for a minute longer then he should have.

Brian raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, so..." He dropped his eyes, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He couldn't bear to witness the sadness that would fill Michael's eyes, he simply kept nodding his head to confirm what they had known all along.

Soapy hands were yanked out of the hot water, moving to caress Brian's bare forearm, sloping down to his wrist. "Are YOU okay?" Michael already knew what a hardship it had been for Lindsay and Melanie to convince Brian to donate his sperm. They hadn't made it easy on him, in any way. The difficulty also came in the long wait to find out how potent Brian Kinney was. It was unbearable.

Michael could see the disappointment in his best friend's face. Something he probably would never let Lindsay see and no way would he break down with Melanie, either.

Brian had finally worked himself to a point where he actually wanted the baby... his own child. After weeks of disagreeing and disappointing his own sense of pride, time and time again, Brian Kinney was eagerly anticipating the possible birth of his offspring.

A son?... maybe... A daughter?... that idea almost brought him to tears.

With cautious determination, Michael's sudsy arm trailed up Brian's chest, veering along the bunching biceps and around the slope of Brian's neck. He curled his elbow securely about the long column, drawing his body close to Brian's, giving him a one arm hold-hug. "I'm sorry, sweetie..." His lips met at the corner of Brian's pouting mouth, stretching across the square jaw and ending up resting against the curve of Brian's ear, continuing to whisper the unneeded apology. "I'm so... so... sorry..."

Brian forced himself not to crumble. He had kept his internal walls up as soon as Lindsay called and he made his way safely inside Michael's apartment. Thanking God that Emmett was out for the night. He hadn't shed one tear, yet, but came damn close the tighter Michael held him. He buried his face further into Michael's shoulder. He threw the dishtowel onto the counter, sinking backward to relax on the ledge. He wanted to envelope Michael fully in his arms. He could hardly speak the soft "Thanks" as he controlled his emotions and simply sighed heavily.

Michael sunk forward, momentarily, his brow brushing along Brian's jaw. He knew Brian would want his distance shortly. This was probably too long of a hug. So... he was the first to draw away.

Brian let Michael go, his hands loosely embracing the small form as it went away. He knew Michael was clearly aware of his stance on this monumental decision. Michael had, also, made his own thoughts and feelings plainly visible. "Are you still mad at me?" He kept a hand clamped on Michael's waist, caught in the belt loop.

Michael furrowed his brow, wondering what Brian could be talking about. "What do you mean?"

"Still think I caved? That I let Linds convince me that this was a good idea?" Brian let his hand reach up to pinch Michael's flushed cheek from the hot dishwater. He could falsely claim he saw some suds, but that wouldn't be true. He just wanted to touch Michael's skin.

Michael shrugged one shoulder, picking up a scrub brush to clean out a pan from the morning. "I don't know. You know my feelings... but should they really matter? I was only looking at things from the outside, semi-in-your-shoes. I could care less about the Hows & Whys of them convincing you." He turned back to finish up washing the dishes, letting them drip dry on the sideboard counter rack.

Brian could decipher that Michael was still a little ticked at the Lesbians. The purely selfish reasons behind choosing him as the sperm donor. He figured this was a good time to tease about the awkward situation. He hooked an arm about Michael's neck, heading down to pinch his left side. "Next time... will be your turn."

Michael was completely outraged. "WHAT?!? No, no, no, no..." He tried to bump Brian away, but it only drew the warm frame even closer. "Brian..." He let his voice speak for not wanting Brian near, feeling the quickening of arousal.

"Quit squiggling, Michael... just..." Brian situated himself in position behind Michael, sculpting his hand about the trim waist. THIS was a hold-hug he could control, show his true emotional state to his best friend. He could sense the rising temperature of Michael's skin, could feel the erratic heartbeats and the harried breathing. His hands only wanted to touch bare skin, not stir and undercover passion boiling.

Christ, Brian knew he'd take whatever the outcome.

Michael lost his mind in the moment, sinking into the backward embrace Brian was famous for. This was almost normal between them, both facing forward. Neither knowing what lay ahead, but still remaining joined together in some way. He could barely control his labored breathes, finding he was easily able to lose himself in Brian's arms.

Brian knew what he needed, how far he could go, what he could take from Michael to settle his body to rights.

"You gonna help me finish the rest of these dishes?" Michael managed to force out on a sigh, his eyes closed.

"Sure... but... not right this minute." Brian inhaled Michael's scent, resting his head on the simple curve of Michael's shoulder.

Michael reached up to latch onto Brian's arms about him. "You okay?" He had difficulty swallowing once he felt the first heated drop of tears on his naked skin.

"I am... now..." Brian sniffled, rubbing his face along Michael's back and the nape of his neck. His nose burying in the sweet smelling ebony locks.

They stood like that for what seemed like forever. Entwined and seeking the comfort each other needed, even if there was no sign of sexual fulfillment.

*******************************************

Twice more this same instance occurred, like clockwork.

Michael would come close to hitting it off with a gorgeous specimen of male flesh.

Brian would find some way to infiltrate his chances. Whether he was aware of this or not, Michael had no idea.

The second time was at Woody's.

Stud Number Two had been cruising Michael while he'd been playing pool with Brian.

At first, Michael was sure the green eyes were centered on his best friend, as most often were. So Michael had played oblivious until Brian had to point out the poor misguided fool. He could also assume, from the way the guy continued to order his beers from the bar and just-so-happen to need to slink by Michael while heading off in the opposite direction of the room, he was interested. By the third or fourth ass brush-on-by... Michael was hooked, but wanting to stay with Brian. Not that he thought they were each other's dates until Brian found some random victim, but it was nice to keep one another entertained all night without invasion of others in their easy togetherness.

All too many times Brian tried to push Michael away, to seek out the pursuit of the nice piece of ass with his permission. That made Michael want Stud Number Two even less. Witnessing the eagerness to succeeding in picking up a new conquest, Michael didn't want to let a new *fan* down. He made sure Brian was gonna be fine, before he set down his pool cue and made his way over.

Brian watched Michael approach Stud Number Two, sipping as his near empty beer bottle. He'd been shooing off new twinks left and right, vying for his complete attention, because his heart wasn't in it. He wanted to spend time with Michael. Then the one interesting hypnotic eyes glancing over in their direction had actually been for Michael... made him second guess coming here at all and simply heading to Babylon's backroom for a proper ending to his haggard night.

Finishing his beer and unable to view Michael's success with Stud Number Two, Brian pushed his way beyond a new pack of wolves making their way into Woody's. Time for a changing of the guards. He stepped to the bar, intent on paying for he and Michael's tab, plus downing one last shot of Whiskey Courage before heading out into the cold evening.

As Brian laid back the drink in two gulps, his cell phone rang.

Michael's head picked up the sound, traveling the distance between them. The familiar chime of the ring tones making his ear prick up and listen.

"Hullo..." Brian put the silver plastic to his ear, closely listening once he saw the digits on his LCD screen. "Yeah..." He got quiet... immovable. His desire to go anywhere, especially Babylon, quickly ebbing. He motioned for the bartender to refill him... twice more.

Michael expertly walked Stud Number Two and him in Brian's line of vision, hoping to catch a glimpse of his best friend and what may have transpired. Leaning against the wood paneling, Michael could glance over the hulking shoulder in order to keep an eye on Brian.

Brian placed his cell phone near his glass on the bar counter.

By the way Brian stared into his whiskey... Michael could tell he was needed. Not simply a trick for the night, but a good friend, a close confidant. He hoped he'd do. Cupping the beautiful stranger's face, he patted the sexy stubble. "I'm sorry." His hand ran down the sculpted torso, abdomen and pelvis. Stupidly it only showed him what he'd be missing tonight. Somehow... Michael knew what would be worth more to his psyche.

"What do you...? I just..." Stud Number Two's mouth hung open as he watched the dark haired cutie walk away, heading for the bar and the gorgeous man he'd been playing pool with. Rumor had it they weren't a *couple*, but something told him one of them was being deceived and in love with the other. Funny... he couldn't truly tell which one was the sucker. Maybe it was anybody who tried to take one of them home.

Michael sidled up to Brian's side at the bar.

Brian turned a shocked expression on Michael, glancing behind him to see the still flabbergasted face of Stud Number Two watching them. "Michael, don't be..."

Michael crooked an eyebrow. "You hungry?"

Brian downed his fourth, and final, whiskey. Titling his head back in exaggerating the action, his eyes watered at the corner, falling down his cheeks. "This... late...?" He wiped a hand at his mouth, not paying attention to the moisture on his face.

Michael shook his head, reaching out to wipe away the tracks of tears. He didn't care where they came from or why they were there. "Got somewhere else to be?" He placed his arm in Brian's way of getting more alcohol to dull his pain and aches.

Brian held onto the bar, rolling his hands around the metal lining the ledge of the counter. "Nah. You?" 

Brian noticed Stud Number Two already had himself a new interest, Michael forgotten. He shut his eyes, knowing that the asshole wasn't worth Michael's worry. Michael didn't seem upset by that. In fact, he seemed more upset by the phone call that had gone on while he was away.

"Nope." Michael gestured his hand for Brian to lead the way.

Brian had put on his leather jacket, but he stopped to help Michael with his before they headed outside into the chilly weather. He placed a hand at the small of Michael's back to usher him outside first. He held open the door to Woody's for Michael to exit.

Michael was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, placing gloves and a soft scarf about his neck, all from inside his jacket pockets. 

Brian let the possibility of the moisture floating in his eyes be the fact that it was so freakin' cold outdoors... not that he was a bit overwhelmed by being hit with some news again.

Michael let a smirk out, looking up at Brian on his way down the steps. He could see the slight sheen to Brian's hazel eyes, the new batch of tears easily disguised as coping with cold weather. He waited for Brian to reach him as more and more people came up the steps and into Woody's.

The two friends only had eyes for one another.

Brian took his time. Once he reached Michael he played with the scarf, tucking it into the jacket collar and fixing the material to block the freezing wind. He sniffed once, looking about the sidewalks as he snuck in a quaint kiss on Michael's lips. Warm flesh against warm flesh, he whispered his thanks as he slowly opened his eyes, trying to blink away the sadness.

Michael grinned, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets. "Anytime." He motioned his head for Brian to follow him... wherever they found themselves eating at one o'clock in the morning.

It certainly didn't have to be Liberty Diner. They just might order take out and find themselves back at Brian's loft or Michael's apartment.

Brian chuckled lightly, not caring if he had tears on his face that froze in place. He encircled his arm about Michael's neck, leaning his forehead on Michael's temple and sneaking another smooch or two to completely embarrass his best friend.

The night... and they... were still young...

~~TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

  
The third time... was IN Babylon. 

Brian had disappeared, per usual, into the backroom, leaving Michael to fend for himself.

Michael was able to be snagged up shortly after being ditched, but he was more interested in dancing away his hurt then actually taking some random guy home.

Stud Number Three was... hotter then anybody there that night. He'd actually come in once Brian had left. He must have been on the prowl for leftovers or small, dark-haired men, because once he spotted Michael alone on the dance floor... he lay claim. He pushed his way into keeping Michael for his own.

So... when a particularly perturbed, spiked blond twink came out of Babylon's backroom in search of Michael Novotny... Stud Number Three continued to block the young man's need to communicate beyond the special blend of seven herbs he'd sniffed down his nose.

Michael fixed Stud Number Three's penchant for bullying... and stepped on his toes, crunching them as he muttered a casual *g'bye* in the low bent ear. So he placed an arm about the young spiked blond twink and brought him over to the bar, ordering a beer for himself and a bottled water for his new friend. "How can I help you, kid." He inwardly cringed from saying that word out loud. He couldn't help how true it was. He slapped a five and some ones over the counter.

"Thanks, Mike." The spiked blond twink took a long swig of the cool water. His Adam's apple moving with every swallow. He let some slip down his jaw and along his neck, wiping it over his bare chest.

Michael squinted his eyes. "Do I know you? Do you think you know me?" He wanted to be sure this wasn't some bad one nighter come to haunt Brian or him. He noticed the twink's difficulty at stringing a few words together, coherently. "What's your name?"

"Kelly." Kelly swallowed another large gulp, his eyes darting about the room as if searching for narcs or something worse... like his parents.

Michael didn't want to seem like a big brother or anything, so he simply dipped his head to speak clearly. "Kelly... is there something you need to tell me?"

"Kinney..." Was all Kelly was able to wrap his tongue around.

"Brian?" Michael scrunched his brow in a frown. "What's wrong?"

"... wasted..."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Honey..." He stopped the informal address and went back to the name. "Kelly, I'm afraid that's like... what always happens when Brian..." He suddenly stopped speaking when Kelly began to shake his head, placing a chilled hand on Michael's bare forearm.

Kelly used his hand to fly over his head, somehow conveying that Brian had snorted, smoked or swallowed enough to seem to be out of his mind. Worse then he usually was... by some standards. "... too many..." He took another sip of water. "Too many men... like he doesn't care..." He shook his head sadly as if he couldn't bear to watch the sorrow unfold of some lost soul willing to give himself up to strangers' keeping.

Michael closed his eyes, silently thanking whomever was watching Brian from above for sending this young kid out to him. "Thanks, Kelly." He smoothed his palm down Kelly's cheek, feeling the cheekbone. How long had it been since the poor kid ate? He noticed Kelly fidgeting, like he wanted to ask for something, but didn't have the nerve. Reaching into his pocket, Michael pulled out his twenty. He slipped it into Kelly's own pocket.

"No. I can't. You don't..." Kelly tried to shove Michael's hands away.

Michael won, only by Kelly being weak, high and somewhat emaciated. "It's yours now. I don't care what you do with it, but... don't go back into that room. Leave here. Get a cab. Go home... or go somewhere to put food in your belly."

"Where?" Kelly could barely speak his thanks. He wasn't sure twenty would cover what his stomach was hungry for.

"Liberty Diner. Tell a waitress named, Debbie, you know me. She'll make you a free meal."

Kelly nodded his head, bowing in shame. He moved out of Michael's way to let him by.

Michael tried to prepare himself for entering the backroom. He'd seen Brian in some precariously dangerous positions in there, but this one seemed even more terrible, by the looks of Kelly's face.

The walk seemed longer then usual, but Michael took his time. He was trying to recall faces, familiar and some not, hoping for someone who had protected Brian while he'd been preoccupied. He didn't recognize one face on his way in. He only saw the crowd of men gathered around someone.

Michael shook to his core, knowing this wasn't going to be a good sight for him to witness.

Brian lay on some type of flat surface, couch or bed, Michael couldn't tell by the mass of men surrounding it. All he could see was the pale hand dangling off the edge, holding the cell phone. The possibility of one of Lindsay's phone calls interrupting Brian's momentum or spurring him into completing his journey toward death... the end of his very existence. The lump in Michael's throat began the minute he burrowed his way through the sea of bodies.

"Excuse me. Pardon me. Excuse me..." Michael tried to hide his falling tears at being late, yet again, to Brian's demise. "Don't..." He pushed a random body away. "Please... move away from him. Don't touch him..." He squeezed his own body to block the one side of Brian's, feeling the naked skin at his back. He had no idea how far they'd gone. Most likely just licking and sucking at Brian's skin, peeling the jeans down his thighs, since he was running *commando* for tonight.

Brian was lost in some throes of orgasmic pleasure, moaning out his euphoria... but not succeeding into completion.

Michael was about ready to crawl on top of Brian to chase them all away, but they soon lost interest when they realized how *hot* and *sexy* each other was. So they took themselves off, slinking along the shadows into private corners for their own pleasures to be fulfilled.

"Mikey?" Brian could barely focus his eyes properly, the dim ceiling lights making him squint.

Michael sighed heavily, staring down at his feet. He wondered where he'd gotten the nerve to become primal about Brian's welfare. It unnerved him what could have happened had he found Brian too late. Taken Stud Number Three's offer and left for the night. He shuddered at the thought.

"Christ!" Michael swiveled to stare down at his best friend. "You're a fuckin' fall down mess."

"C'mere, Mikey."

Michael tried to step away, pulling at Brian's jeans to cover his exposed erection. "Brian... No! Let's just get outta here. This isn't a place for you to be right now." He looked around for Brian's shirt, with no luck.

"But they LOVE me here, Michael... I like being here, better then being..." Brian gestured his cell phone hand above his head. "... out there..." He continued to squint up, blinking away the flashes of light in his eyes.

Michael placed a hand on either side of Brian's body, hovering over him, muting the lights. "Being here is only a temporary *fix*, Brian. You still have to wake up sober in the morning."

"No I don't."

Brian said the words so easily they sent chills down Michael's spine.

"Please... don't talk like that." Michael found something resembling Brian's shirt he'd worn into the club. It was a bit tattered and stepped on. No telling what mystery fluid littered it's material.

Brian lay back, his eyes closed in somewhat bliss. "YOU love me, right?"

"Brian... c'mon..." Michael blushed, dipping his head as he tried to lift Brian from where he lay.

"Want me to be happy, huh?" Brian helped Michael raise his torso up, his arms hanging over Michael's shoulders, hands dangling down. He nudged his face with Michael's.

"Of course I do. I only..."

Brian forcibly pushed Michael away. "Then let me grieve any damn-well, fucking way I want! Stop trying to wet blanket my enjoyment!" He barked the words in Michael's face. The moisture on his face clearly stating his only emotion hadn't been sexual pleasure.

Michael was losing his patience. He bit at his top lip, beginning to feel the anger within wanting to seep out. "Then stop fuckin' trying to do yourself in on MY watch, asshole!" He shoved at Brian's bare chest.

"No one asked you to be a hero, Mikey."

"And no one cares if you martyr yourself to kingdom come."

"I didn't ask you to be my babysitter."

"Yeah... and everyone says you're a no-good, rat-bastard who'll fuck anything walking by. 9 times out of 10, I disagree... so... who are the real morons of the bunch?"

Their anger and frustration wasn't at one another, but at the awkward situation.

Brian grumbled out a soft laugh. "You and Me? Us or Them?"

"Hasn't it always been that way, Brian?"

Brian slid off the slab, trying to stand on his own. He felt weakness from an almost orgasm still in his body. His pants open about his waist, his pubic hair visible at the hem.

Michael was quickly there to lend a shoulder up, hoping to avoid the naked parts of Brian visible to him. It would be so easy to help Brian relieve his pent-up orgasm still inside.

Brian's cell phone hand went to rub at his weary eyes, the plastic nearly crashing to the floor, but Michael caught it. Out of curiosity, Michael backed-up the call log, discovering the last known phone number. He shook his head as he saw the name come across the LCD screen. He was getting tired of picking up pieces of Brian after Lindsay got a hold of him. "You need to be stronger with her, Brian. More firm."

"I am. She just..." Brian sat on the slab for a minute to catch his equilibrium. "... caught me at a weak moment."

Michael bit at the inside of his mouth. "She's good at that." He tried not to stare at Brian for too long or he'd grow more upset. "Tell her to ONLY call when it's good news." When he glanced down he noticed some buttoned down shirt simply laying on the slab. Maybe one of the many men had offered it to Brian as a pillow of some kind for his harder head. He grabbed for it, shaking out the material. He wrapped it loosely about Brian's shoulders, waiting for the signal to dress him.

"Hey... this IS good news." Brian faked a shitty smile, then a forced laugh.

Michael's face went completely blank, unable to feel anything. "It worked?"

Brian quickly lifted his head, one arm limply resting on Michael's shoulder. He softly patted the ruddy cheek. "Nah... apparently Jack was right. I am good fur nuthin'... through and through..."

Michael could see that Brian's inability to help Lindsay was tearing him apart. Something Brian was powerless to control. "I don't care how much you grumble, I'm calling her." He was able to hold Brian at bay while he re-dialed with one hand. "She needs to know keeping you informed this way isn't conducive to your mental stability." The palm on Brian's bare chest was more for balance, then holding him back.

Brian shook his head slowly. "Don't you get it, Mikey?!" His hooded eyes looked over at Michael, licking his dry lips. "Like a good Irish Catholic... THIS is my penance. For all my dirty sins and thoughts of depravity and lewdness."

Michael listened to the other line ring once, then twice... before the extension was picked up. He felt Brian tightly latch onto his wrist. Inch by methodical inch, Brian was drawing Michael closer to the radiating warmth of his unsatiated body. His head hit the center of Michael's chest, the silky hair falling forward. Brian reached up to press his palms against Michael's clothes and trace over them.

"Brian, please... not now..." Michael quickly flipped around. His back was now to Brian, but this gave him the opportunity to encircle his forearm around Michael's waist, pulling him on his lap.

Brian rested his cheek on the arched back and inhaled Michael's calming scent.

Michael's eyes flittered about the room, hoping no one was watching them.

"What do you want?!" The forceful voice barked over the lines.

"Melanie... it's Michael."

"Shit! Sorry, Michael. I thought it was Brian." Melanie grew quiet, her heavy sigh apparent. "Is HE with you?"

As Michael opened his mouth to respond, Brian chose that moment to press tiny kisses over Michael's shirt on his back. His hands finding their way up the hem of the Tee, along the bare flanks. "Yeah..."

"He's lucky to have you." Melanie was contemplative, somewhat secretive. It sounded like she might be moving from one room of the house to another. She was trying to keep the conversation away from Lindsay's ears. "Man... did you ever think gettin' pregnant could get this fucked? They sure don't tell you about this bullshit in Health class or textbooks."

Michael could barely breathe, much less chuckle along with Melanie. Brian hands were sinking more underneath his shirt, smoothing over his naked back. The thumb pads were adding extra pressure. "How are YOU?"

"Um... well, actually ***I*** am doing fine. It's watching this completely destroy Linds that makes me pissed. I'm half tempted to believe she's more broken by not being able to procreate with Brian Kinney." Melanie couldn't even force out a laugh at her own dry, wry sense of humor.

"Mel... no. Come on. I'm sure..."

"Michael, neither of us are stupid people. I conceded to let Brian be the donor because I like my home tranquil and guilt-free."

"She does love you, Melanie."

"Mmmm... times like these makes me wonder though. What the hell do you all see in HIM?"

"Uh... sometimes..." Michael felt Brian attempt to lift up his shirt to expose some flesh to the air. He kept the hem down as much as he could in the front. "... the feelings are inexplicable..."

"Boooooo. No fair." Melanie knew she wasn't going to get insight this quickly into Brian Kinney's attraction.

"Can I ask you to do something for me?" Michael trapped Brian's hands under his arms to his sides.

"What?"

"Tell Lindsay to call only when there's been a baby made. If I'm not careful, I think I might have to peel Brian off the floor tonight." Michael felt and heard Brian's hushed laugh against his back.

"Mikey... I'm not on the floor... yet..." Brian murmured into Michael's clothing.

Michael reached back to shush Brian.

"Done." Melanie cleared her throat. "I did think that she was being a bit over excessive in calling. I was only figuring she needed Brian to talk to for comfort. If what you're telling me is any indication... then they both aren't doing each other any good."

"Thanks, Mel." Michael inwardly cringed, hoping Melanie didn't mind the nickname he called her. He had no idea if they had gotten to that stage.

"Not a problem. You know... I'm still a bit bothered that Linds gave me this whole other impression of you. You're very protective and loving toward him, Michael. I meant it... what I said before. He doesn't know how lucky he is to have you in his life."

"Well, wish me some, because he's about to find out."

Melanie genuinely laughed this time. "Luck... Bye..."

Michael hung up and pocketed the phone in his jeans. He couldn't help wondering what kind of story Lindsay had told about him. He hated fretting over something that silly, but it did mean a lot to him. He loosened Brian's hands, sinking down into Brian's lap. He felt the lazy, yet strong, arms surround his mid-chest. "Well..." He was checking if Brian had any plans for the rest of the early morning.

"Take me..."

"Yeah?"

"Anywhere, but here."

"I have a few loads of laundry to do back at the apartment. Know how to separate? Iron and fold?"

"Isn't Em there?" Brian leaned back, squinting at Michael's profile.

"No. Not for a few days. Torso sent him and the general manager to an Independent Fashion Designers weekend. Emmett probably won't be back until late Sunday night or early Monday morning."

"Party at Mikey's?" Brian wiggled his eyebrows, his hips gyrating to some rhythm.

Michael sighed, turning in Brian's lap. "Actually, right now, I'm feeling kind of..." He was going to try to find the right words to describe WHAT he was feeling. Especially why he felt like disappearing. He glanced down into Brian's face and found a desperate plea seeping from those piercing hazel eyes. Michael knew the *look*, knew what Brian was in need of before he left to go anywhere. "No!"

Brian's forehead nudged Michael's shoulder, one arm keeping him tight to his chest. "I'm not saying you have to do much of anything... just..."

"Let me go, Brian." Michael found a spot he could use to jump off of Brian. He huddled near the closest thick column, trying to feel his erratic heart beating at the prospect of what Brian could be asking.

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mikey... It's not meant to hurt you... I..."

Michael flipped to lean back on the column's surface, arms hugged to his chest. "... need something from me that you know I'll give you." He raised his dark head, forcing himself to gaze at Brian's shadowed, blue-hued features. "But I can't anymore."

"Why not?" Brian relaxed back on the slab, on his elbows. He knew what a tantalizing sight he beheld to any and all eyes catching him... but he only wanted one right at the moment.

"Because..." Michael could think of a dozen reasons why. Because... ****you mean more to me then some quick fuck and a random orgasm****. Because... _**I'm your best friend and I don't want to be used like every other man in your life**_. Because... _**well, because I love you**_...

Michael was too afraid to voice any of them.

Finding himself sobering up pretty well, Brian pushed off the slab, sauntering over toward Michael. The downcast eyes told him that shame wasn't far behind. He brought up his right arm to rest the forearm above Michael's head on the wall. His other hand formed a loose fist, using the backs of his fingers to trail a soothing path down Michael's cheek. "Michael... Mikey..." He bent low enough to whisper this into Michael's ear.

Closing his eyes tight at the rush of want entering him, Michael reached up with both hands to sculpt Brian's lean jaw. It amazed him how far Brian would often allow him to reign over his body.

The fly of Brian's jeans already undone, the curious fingertips skimmed the prominent bulge, then easily slipped inside the open flaps of heavy material.

Brian sucked in a long breath of release, arching his neck to feel the gentle hands on him after the roughness from the strangers earlier. That achingly worrisome promise of a multitude of deep-throat blowjobs. Grabbing Michael's shoulders, Brian switched places. He continued to keep Michael safely wedged between his quivering thighs. "Touch me..." His lips barely touched Michael's open mouth.

"I am..." Michael muttered into Brian's lips when they put slight pressure on him. His hand hadn't even made it through the curls of pubic hair. "I will..."

"... help me forget..." Brian breathed into Michael as he undulated into the exploring hand in his jeans.

Forget what?

Michael's head shot up. He was finally coming into the realization of what Brian was truly asking for. Of course there was the obvious sexual release... but there was such a deep-seeded desire to feel... wanted... to feel the basic need of love. And it couldn't be from just anyone, it had to be from someone Brian trusted and could fall safely into, becoming weak and vulnerable without a care.

The long pause made Brian fear Michael's sudden desertion. He quickly grabbed for the unmoving hands. He wrapped them around his own waist, having the fingers rest on his lower spine, right above the dip into his ass. He could easily drop his jeans, but somehow letting Michael do the undressing got his rocks off even more.

Michael came closer, his lips settling on Brian's upper chest. He kissed the flesh once, then twice... steadily moving along the way until he met the left shoulder. He wander back over, heading up Brian's collarbone and the veins in his neck. The kisses weren't harsh, they were feather light.... which drove Brian nutty.

Michael knew it would, especially if he sent out the tip of his tongue in the same pattern.

Brian's breathing was labored, his body growing ultra-heated, the pores of his skin sensitizing and widening toward the anticipation of Michael's touch. The cool tempered palms stretched down the shape of his ass cheeks, grabbing and squeezing with fervor. "I want you..." His own lips bent to skim Michael's neck. "... to touch me... harder..."

"Brian..." Michael tried to inflect in his tone that he wanted to pull away, even if his body had no such claim to want to do.

"I'm not high, Mikey. I know it's you." Brian kissed the earlobe, licking the shape. He could feel Michael trying to draw away, so he picked up his speech, knowing what had to be said. "I need you, Mikey. I need you to want me. I want you... I want it to be you. Only... you..."

That was all Michael needed... and he had Brian spun around and plastered to the wall of the column they were occupying, face first.

"Oh... Michael!" Brian had no idea this kind of primal animal lurked within his best friend. He flattened his palms and cheek to the wall. His finger joints clamped and knuckles went white in anticipation of what Michael could do to him.

The warmth churning between them was intense, nearly scorching.

Michael matched his palms to the back of Brian's hands, hoping to silently convey his need for Brian to keep them up here. His own breathing catching, he closed his eyes and allowed his hands to do their whim. They were familiar, yet excitable, about what was to be discovered.

Slightly nervous fingers delved into fine sable pubic hair seeking out the hardening length beneath.

Brian thrust into Michael's palms. The cool flesh a godsend to his throbbing heat. The skin surrounded the elongating muscle, taking intricate care to slide down to the leaking tip, then back toward the testicles.

"Brian..." Michael muttered the words into Brian's naked back. "... this is so..."

"... right..." Brian finished for Michael as he leaned forward, letting his forehead mesh to the plaster.

 

~~TBC... 


	3. Chapter 3

** SPECIAL NOTE  ** **:** _There is a reference to a song that might remind you of Justin toward the end of this part. I only meant to use it to explain why Michael may despise the use of "Sunshine" for Justin. Like it had a special meaning to him and it became tarnished... pardon moi's imagination..._

****************************************** 

One hand down the front of Brian’s jeans, Michael brought his other to skim and methodically trace over well-defined muscles and the curved spine. He needed more of Brian’s skin. Needed to kiss the flesh he’d dreamed of feeding off of for years. He was always amazed at how far Brian allowed him to go.

This time was tantamount... and a rarity they both should savor preciously.

Michael ran his nose tip along each bend and slop of skin and bone. His lips grazed lightly, his tongue licking a trail in it’s wake.

Brian sucked in a muted breath, leaning back into Michael, attracted to his comforting presence. The simple fact that Michael was near wasn’t the reason he was willingly giving himself over. No... at times such as these, when he lost sight of who he was and why he was here... he craved Michael. He thirsted for him and the tenderness that usually followed.

Michael... above all others.

Michael never saw Brian remove his left hand from the wall, never knew that he would think about someone else’s sexual pleasure. Many men had joked, teased, that Brian was only into sex for his own satisfaction. They would be surprised to find, on rare occasions, that he *got off* on his partner’s orgasm even more.

Or it could be, Brian only did this with Michael... and no one else.

Brian slipped his hand down his left side; sneaking backward, the fingers knew automatically where to finally rest. He cupped Michael’s thickening groin, gently rubbing, causing palpable friction of flesh, cotton and rough jean material.

Michael’s breathing increased through his nostrils, his body heightened by the sensation of being touched in kind. His kisses grew frantic, his tongue tasting every square inch and his hand tightened and quickened it’s pace. He knew that there would be a matter of time where they couldn’t turn back from this... a point of no return. He had to be assured that Brian was with him all the way. That this wouldn’t turn into a pity fuck for either of them.

Brian chuckled in a hush as Michael spun him around again, apparently tired of only being able to suckle at his naked back. Palms cupped and molded his breast bone, stretching across protruding nipples and scooping up, then down the arm pits.

Michael attacked Brian’s shocked mouth, a hand quickly reached to soothe and shape the strong jaw. He bit softly at the bottom lip, his thumb playing at the cute bow to the flesh.

To say Brian was stunned by Michael’s forcefulness would be wrong. He knew it had been in him all along, never knowing quite when to sprout. The wantonness of yearning for his best friend for years kept Brian wanting more, searching for a meaning in something he craved. His arms sunk around Michael’s waist, reaching to apply pressure to the rounded backside, drawing their fronts flush. He liked his face being caressed, liked the texture of Michael’s skin on his stubble, wandering up to get lost in his tangled locks.

Brian brought his palms up, feeling the hem under the Tee; on the updraw the fingers delved inside, rubbing beneath the briefs on the bare ass in his grasp. He squeezed and pinched the delicate flesh knowing how red it would become later. He tried to speak but his voice caught on the sensation of Michael’s hands all over him, giving him a chasm of pleasure he hadn’t had in days.

Both their jean’s waists opened, the material nearly drawn half-way down their thighs, rock hard cocks vying to dangle free, about ready to touch, millimeters apart from exploding... and then a sound went off in Michael’s pocket...

... the two men were momentarily unaware of anything for a few seconds, their eyes drawn together, lost in some other world where only they existed. They both licked their dry lips, watching the fullness ripen and beg for impact.

Brian was the first of them to break away, smirking. He raised an eyebrow in mocking perfect timing. He snatched the phone from Michael’s pocket. “Can I... help you?” The sarcasm dripped thick.

“Brian...” The voice was known, sounding slightly slurred.

Michael watched the veil quickly shadow Brian’s features.

Someone Brian didn’t particularly need to hear from right now.

Michael tried to reach up to take back the phone, but Brian swiftly avoided his grab, leaning his right shoulder on the wall of the column.

Brian bent his head, averting his face to the darkness, keeping things private. “Slow down... I can’t understand... What are you doing... Mom? How did you...?” He lifted the cell away from his ear, noticing that it wasn’t Michael’s phone but his own that had been taken earlier.

Michael shook his head, shutting his eyes to yet another woman in Brian’s life who would end up dragging him through the mud and muck. He leaned his forehead weakly on Brian’s upper left shoulder joint.

Playtime was over, fun while it lasted, time to step back into reality.

Michael tenderly reached out to put he and Brian’s clothes back to rights, adjusting their jeans and hiding their unsatisfied hard-ons away.

Brian went sullen and quiet, his fingers picking at the plastered wall. He let Joan go through her ranting and rambling. He bowed his head in misery, knowing she wanted him to come to the rescue for Jack. He was ashamed he even bothered to listen.

Michael attempted to back away, giving Brian a chance to have some real privacy.

“NO! Don’t... go...” Brian frantically swiped an arm about Michael’s neck, tucking him close into his embrace. “Don’t leave me.”

An awkward hold to begin with, Michael situated himself to lean on the wall, facing Brian, on his left shoulder. His hands reached out to latch onto Brian’s sides, holding on for dear life. His fingers caught in the belt loops of the jeans, he tugged loosely. He hid his flushed face in Brian’s chest, barely able to contain his pulsating cock. He fidgeted, settled one thigh between Brian’s. He could feel a similar throbbing from Brian’s own groin.

Even without the sexual release completed, they were a comfort and a shelter to one another.

Brian’s arm slipped down a few inches, the fingers catching at Michael’s shaved hairline and caressing the skin and spiked locks covered in sweat.

Michael innocently lifted his knee which caused Brian to moan. Brian had to shake his head. “Nothing, Mom. I didn’t say anything.” He paused, clearing his throat. He rubbed the side of his face against Michael’s cheek. “I know... don’t think I... well, Christ! I can’t just...” He smoothed a hand over his tired face, pinching the bridge  
of his nose. “I didn’t mean to take Your Lord’s name in vain! I say it all the time!” He let out a long burst of air. “I’m not yelling. No... I’m not...” He rolled his eyes, looking away from Michael’s curious eyes. “Yeah... whatever... Jack can rot for all I care!! It’ll be a fuckin’ cold day in HELL before I do anything for him!” Brian hung up, leaning his temple on the wall, starting to bang it on the surface.

“Whoa! Stop!” Michael used his hands to cushion Brian’s attempt at battery to himself. “Tell me.” He shook Brian’s torso in his grip. He searched out Brian’s face, but without being able to look directly into those hazel eyes Michael couldn’t completely read the emotional state.

Head still bowed, resting on the wall, Brian cleared his throat. “Jack’s drunk... makin’ a fool of himself at the Union Hall.”

Michael glanced off in the distance, trying to contemplate what Brian could do to stop any madness his father perpetuated. “And... what does she think you’ll be able to do to stop him?”

“Join him for another round?” Brian tried a set at humor, but it fell flat. This time he did lift his head, his eyes searching out Michael’s serious ones. “Keep him from having to spend the night in jail, is my guess.” He shrugged, knowing he was only pulling at straws. He knew right where he got his tendencies to be a true Drama Queen.  
Joan Kinney made Jack Kinney look like Satan himself, but Jack didn’t really need her help in that department.

“Your mom isn’t sober either?” Michael already knew the answer.

Brian was momentarily speechless by Michael’s quick perception. “I didn’t have the heart, or the fuckin’ courage, to tell her I’m not in the best shape, as well.”

Michael dipped a hand into Brian’s pockets, causing his fingers to brush against the heated, elongated muscle striving for freedom. “You’ll owe me one.” Pressing a quick kiss to Brian’s lips, he shook the keys in the air. He wandered back to the slab to pick up the shirt left. He threw it toward Brian to catch.

“Michael, no... Let him...” Brian caught the buttoned shirt in his hands, putting on clothes that weren’t his. He made a weak gesture to take the keys, which Michael easily kept out of reach.

Michael snuck in a second kiss that was slightly longer-lasting, as he helped Brian button the strange shirt. The lip lock was filled with future promises of something more... if Brian was interested. He savored the fullness of Brian’s bottom lip. “Let me do this, huh. Let me do this for you, more then Jack.” He winked sheepishly. “We don’t have to drive him home, exactly.”

Brian rolled his eyes, snickering. “Yeah, guilt him into a cab ride. That ought to be good, have to see you do that.”

“You’d be amazed at what I AM capable of...” Michael slowly pulled away, seeing Brian unsure of if he should follow. “Come on... aren’t you the least bit curious?” Twirling the set of keys around his index finger, he swiveled to head out the backroom of Babylon and see an end to this crazy night for them both.

*****************************************

They had only been there five minutes when one of the Union Hall dwellers wandered over. “Hey, Sonny!” He pretended a feigned interest. “Haven’t seen ya’ in a buncha forevers. How ya’ been?” The guy nearly fell over, but caught himself on a counter top.

Michael would never have believed it if he wasn’t witnessing this himself.

Brian sobered up, became like he was some awkward teen again. Downcast eyes, permanent flush to his face and his shoulders hunched as if the world weighed heavy. His thumbs latched into the back pockets of his jeans and he scuffed the tips of his shoes on the concrete floor.

“Life good, Mr. Tuccillo. How’s Maggie?” Brian racked his brain to figure out who he had known in school that was related to the man. He didn’t realize he was taking steps backward until he could feel his arm brush against Michael’s body.

They were shrouded in muted lights enough that no one could see in between them.

Michael brought up his hand to rest in the crook of Brian’s elbow, adding his simple nearness as a comfort. He knew what was happening here and he was willing to play along. He kept quiet, letting Brian speak for them.

Brian had known these men all his life. Men like Jack. Men who believed in working hard to put food on the table. Men who married their childhood sweethearts and had a passel of kids. Men who’s faith in God and country got tested and diminished the older and wiser they became. Men who had prejudices embedded in their character make-up that shaped and molded their lives. Usually the reason why they were all still here at the Union Hall and not at home, snuggled in bed with their wives, safe and happy.

Men who would, if truth be known, kick the ever-living shit out of both Brian and Michael simply for walking side-by-side... indoors... if they only knew WHO Brian and Michael truly were.

Michael’s palm went flat to Brian’s back. As much as a reassurance that things would be alright and that they would be out of here shortly. Plus, he thought Brian might need some boosts of bravery sent his way.

They could hear the raucous laughter and raised voices in argument coming from one particular corner of the Union’s Mess Hall.

Mr. Tuccillo moved out of Brian’s path, beer neck in his grasp, on his way toward a pool table in the back. “Guess Joan called ya’, huh?”

Michael quickly glanced at Brain catching him wince at the informal use of his mother’s name.

That kind of intimacy the name allowed bespoke of many years complete strangers thought they knew the Kinney clan, when they truly knew nothing.

Brian tipped his brow cordially. “Excuse me. Nice to meet you again.” He ended the conversation, wanting to get all this over with as soon as possible and end this day right.

Mr. Tuccillo tipped his beer bottle to Brian as he walked away. “Don’ be a strang’r.”

Brian grunted in reply, moving out of the semi-drunk’s way. This oddly backed him into Michael.

Michael steadied Brian with gentle hands on his hips. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He stood on tip-toes to whisper into Brian’s ear.

“Michael, I...” Brian was too wrapped up in making sure he found a good opportunity to interrupt his father’s antics.

“Let me handle him.” Michael secretly pressed his mouth to the back of Brian’s neck.

Brian had only shut his eyes for a minute, letting Michael’s intimate touch center his thoughts until he walked into the storm awaiting him. He didn’t realize what Michael was doing, not even waiting for a reply. Or for Brian to help convince him to change his mind.

Michael stepping up to his father, Jack Kinney, was something Brian had always tried to prevent from ever happening. And if it ever did... he wanted to be there... standing between them and blocking Michael from any harm that might come to him.

Jack didn’t hate Michael, he simply didn’t know Michael very well. Jack never would understand the closeness of their friendship or the fact that there were feelings between them that could be something more. Hell... Jack didn’t even know his own son was gay, much less that Michael was slightly more effeminate then him and gay, as well.

This was just a moment Brian had tried to avoid while growing up and out of his father’s tyranical hold and home.

Brian watched Michael approach the rowdy table, standing behind, somewhat to the left of Jack’s chair.

Everyone else at the table saw Michael walk over.

When Jack finally sensed someone behind him, he turned around. His bloodshot eyes focusing and unfocusing on the familiar face. “Do I know you?” He took a long swig of his mixed drink, several empty beer bottles were already littered in front of him.

Michael put a hand on Jack’s chair back, leaning down to speak into the ear... keeping the conversation mum and only between them.

Brian was struck breathless, he couldn’t move one inch, only viewing from a distance. He didn’t want Jack to know he was near, yet. That he somehow still cared about the reputation for the family name. Mostly he was keeping an eye on Jack, making sure he didn’t hurt Michael by manhandling him the usual way he did to others when he was inebriated beyond the point of comprehension and knowing limits.

The looks Jack was making gave Brian flashes of memories to his youth. Seconds of time when he’d been stripped of everything but the clothes on his back. Jack always wanting to be superior and the victor over every battle fought, even the very family he claimed to be protecting.

At one point, Brian could see Jack’s hidden arm bunching at his side, and he found himself about ready to pounce on his own father. Anything to protect Michael, even hurting himself.

The shocker came when Michael was able to block the arm’s advance, twisting the weak appendage behind Jack’s back and pushing him forward to half-lean/half-smoosh on the table surface. Michael continued to mutter sweet nothings in Jack’s ears.

The beer bottles jangled together at the force Michael had shown. Some of Jack’s *supposed* buds pushed their chairs beyond the table, in case Michael wanted to take them all down. Funny... no one thought to come to Jack’s rescue.

Brian stared with wide-eyed wonder at what transpired next.

Fear washed over Jack’s weathered features, from whatever Michael had said. The minute a nervous smile broke out on Jack, Michael loosened his hold, backing away.

That’s when Brian moved in, strolling easily to stand at Michael’s side. “Hey... Pop.”

The opaque, rheumy eyes blinked up at Brian. “Sonnyboy... what are ya’...?” He made a usual face of disgust, rolling his eyes. “Lemme guess... The Warden got a hold of you?”

Brian swiftly pulled Michael to stand behind him, he kept him close enough to still feel. What perplexed him was that underneath all Michael’s bravado and showman-up-ship... there was still fear and nervousness. He could see that Michael didn’t believe his efforts actually worked. He stepped closer to pull Jack’s coat off the back of his chair. He shook out the material, hoping that would give his father a clue to begin leaving.

Though he had a few seconds of a memory relapse, Brian was back in control. “C’mon, Pop. Let’s get you home.”

“That bitch put the fear of God in you!!??” Jack teased, a few snickers filtered the table.

Michael let Brian take over, stepping out of the way, in the outskirts of the table. He continued to tell himself that this moment was for Brian, and every moment in Jack’s company would be the same. Jack no longer had the power to harm Brian. Michael tried not to wince in pain or show he’d been hurt, possibly marred by the same hands that had hurt Brian when he was younger. What disquieted Michael was knowing even from the little he had gotten from Jack... Brian had to survive through an entire childhood of this ruckus and bullshit. Michael should be so lucky he got away with the small bruising he would.

For Michael, this fully explained why Brian was the way he was, is and always would be until his dying day. His heart broke at the way Brian helped Jack to his feet.

The way Brian flinched and dodged the fake, put-upon affection for an unwanted son. The simple show of Brian keeping quiet, laying demons at rest and taking sweet care of a father he should have been pressing charges against. The tender actions left Michael speechless with awe. He fell more in love with Brian each second, if that was even possible. Yes... if asked... he WOULD die for this man.

With both their help and encouragement, they managed to sway Jack to put on his coat and step outside, all the while getting quite an earful of foul mouth and the usual bitchiness of Life and Work According to Jack Kinney.

From time to time, Brian and Michael would glance at one another, locked in the moment, fully understanding that they would hope, and pray, they would never be like this. Like the men who proudly represented fathers of their generation. If either of them turned out to imitate one iota of this terrible excuse for a parental figure...  
they silently pledged to kick the other in the ass. They chuckled in unison, sharing the private joke.

Jack was totally oblivious, thinking he might have said something funny.

As Brian kept a strong, detached arm about his father’s waist, Michael hailed a taxi cab. He thought they would put Jack inside, washing their hands of this whole mess.

Once the yellow cab pulled up to the curb, Brian opened the door to help Jack settle in. He then turned after shutting the door on his father’s flushed, scowling face. He threw Michael the Jeep’s keys for a second time.

“Wha-?” Michael expertly caught them in both his palms.

What was the PLAN now?

“Follow me.” Brian brushed his hand on Michael’s forearm, walking around the back of the taxi to quickly climb into the right passenger side.

“But I thought...”

Opening the door, Brian had one foot inside to slide onto the bench seat beside his father. “I’ll get him to the house to the front door.

“Brian...” Michael hated the way his voice broke, like this was possibly the last time he’d see Brian ever again. He had wanted to remind him how many years they’d spent trying to get him out of that hellhole. Okay maybe Brian actually wouldn’t be stepping foot back in his old house, but even making it to the front yard and porch would begin the deterioration of his soul.

“I’m fine, Mikey.” Brian gave one of his trademark charming, Yes-I-Am-An-Asshole-What-Of-It smirks. “Just do it.”

“I won’t be far.”

Brian remembered something before he closed the door. “Be careful... and don’t tailgate.”

Michael caught the small wave as the taxi driver drove Brian and his father off toward the end of the street. He hurried off to start the Jeep, parked along the sidewalk. He wanted to desperately keep his promise. He limped over, climbing in and taking off while setting his seatbelt over his chest.

******************************************

Michael had kept a good distance, saw the cab pull away from the edge of the curb as he entered the housing development. He maneuvered the Jeep into that empty area, settling into a nice parking spot. He idled the Jeep, jumping down out of the car to see if he’d be needed.

Brian and Jack were already up the front porch steps.

The front door was open... awaiting Jack’s arrival.

Someone stood beyond the front door wood paneling, the amber colored liquid visible in a small, chunky glass.

Michael could hear the clang of ice in the liquid.

Joan was taking the toss-off of her husband.

Michael noticed a mini-van in the driveway. As he blinked, squinting his eyes to see deeper inside the house, the living room illuminated with a thousand points of lights... he saw Claire fidgeting, pacing the floor. She was moving forward to help bring Jack in, but Joan stopped her mid-step. She wanted Jack to suffer the humiliation of coming home with his tail between his legs... letting the neighbors get an eyeful.

Jack shoved Brian away, yanking open the screen door. He gruffly walked beyond his wife and daughter... not even thanking his son for saving his ass.

The harsh slam of the front door in Brian’s face made Michael turn away in disgrace. He set back on the Jeep’s left front tire, wheel well. He would allow Brian to stew, before he thought to approach. He told himself if Brian didn’t come down in the next three minutes... he’d go get him.

Brian was back in two. He tugged open the passenger door, climbing back inside and buckling himself in. He slumped down in the seat and placed his right elbow on the window ledge. He began to bite at his thumb nail, growing more sober then he ever wanted to be and scarily quiet.

Michael came back to the driver’s seat. “Brian, I...” Damn... what could he say?

Rubbing his shaking hands on his thighs, over his knees, Brian stared straight ahead out of the windshield. “Drive.” The words were laced heavily with mixed emotions and confusion.

“Where to?” Michael faced forward, as well, hands on the wheel at 10 and 2 o’clock. His tone was ultra soft and kind.

“Wherever you’re going.” Brian averted his head back to watch his childhood home shut down. The screaming match still carrying on. He knew Claire was probably near tears, bawling like a bratty child.

“I’m going back to my apartment.” Michael huffed out angrily, shifting gears to drive away. He was upset with other things, not at Brian. “I’m getting kind of tired... and I still need some clean clothes for work tomorrow.” He kept his bunched fist about the knob of the gearshift, pounding on it as if it were the three faces he’d seen a few minutes ago.

About five minutes down the road, and one uncomfortable silence filled moment later, Brian stretched his hand out to cover Michael’s fist. “I’m okay, Michael.”

“Liar.” Michael barked out. He quickly upturned his hand, letting Brian’s palm slip on top of his. He threaded their fingers together. “Whatever you’re trying to do to cope... you’re not fooling me.”

Brian attempted to sneak his hand back, he wanted to tuck it under his thigh. “I’ll be fine.”

Michael finally let Brian go. “No you’re not, but whatever you wanna tell yourself is okay by me. Just don’t try faking anything with me. I’ll know by morning if you’re telling me the truth or not.”

“How?” Brian let a small grin shape his mouth. His eyes lighted at the tenacity and frustration boiling in his best friend’s face. He wondered if Michael was talking about the sexual tension that hadn’t been relieved between them. His hand snaked out again. His fingers played with Michael’s frown lines and the tight mouth of irritation.

Michael tried to move his head from Brian’s playful touch. “Stop! Quit it!”

Brian did, but he no longer wanted to stare out the window. He intently watched Michael’s profile. The way the eyebrows quirked from knowing he was being watched, the shape of the lips as they tried NOT to smile, which would quickly turn into laughter. What tickled him the most was the raging fire Michael was extinguishing for his benefit.

“I said stop it, Brian.”

“What? What am I doing that’s so terrible?”

Michael gave Brian a side-long glance of knowing what he was doing to him. “Oh... you know.”

“Hmmm, do I?! Wow... want me to shut my eyes?” Brian teased as he unclicked his seatbelt.

Michael could swear he heard an impish giggle in Brian’s tone. “What good would that do?”

Brian unbuckled his belt, leaning over to lick and nip at Michael’s vulnerable earlobe. “Oh... yeah... I see what you mean now.” He lifted his hands to reach up for the roll bar above their heads. “Pardon moi... as I move myself to the back of the bus, Mr. Oppressor.” He heaved his body back in between the front bucket seats to slide toward the backseat of the Jeep.

“Brian! What are you doing?” Michael couldn’t believe Brian would choose to move in a mobile vehicle.

Brian settled his butt down on the seat, choosing dead center. “Tell me when you can... or can’t... see me.” He began to scoot over the leather.

“How is that supposed to help me? I still know you’re back there, even if I can or can’t see you.”

Brian felt dangerous. He climbed to his knees, semi-standing on the seat, directly behind Michael. “Ahhhh, but my fine, trustworthy, best-est friend...” He stood tall, where the Jeep’s soft cover would have been. It was unusually warmer thaen it had been previous nights, but still a slight chill.

“Sit down, Brian. You’re going to get us pulled over.” Michael reached back to grip Brian’s lower thigh, right above the kneecap. He kept his eyes on the road, having perfected one handed driving with Brian over the years.

“FUCK YOU... WORLD!!” Brian screeched, hugging the driver’s seat, which allowed him to somewhat grip Michael’s shoulders.

Michael tugged again on Brian’s jeans. “Please... Brian... sit down.”

“Why?” Brian patted the top of Michael’s head, ruffling the gelled hair, spiking it about. “I’m not hurting or harming anyone but myself... why would it bother...?”

“It bothers... and worries me.” Michael plainly stated, catching Brian’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “So, if you don’t take your seat in the next five seconds, I’m gonna turn this Jeep around and take you back to the loft.” He hoped his threat seemed real, because they were so close to his apartment. He wanted to get home to bed soon, not have to worry about taking Brian back to the loft and try to find a way back to his place.

“Yes, Daddy.” Brian grumbled and hrumph-ed as he plopped down on the seat... the right way.

When Michael pulled up to the curb in front of his apartment, he stopped the engine, proceeding to throw Brian the Jeep’s keys. “Stay... or leave. I don’t care anymore.” He was able to disguise his bad limp, by jumping up and down as if he was freezing.

“Mikey, fuck... wait!” The keys had fallen to the floor. Brian had to dig around at his feet, before he jumped out of the backseat. “Where are you going?”

 _ ~~TBC... _


	4. Chapter 4

“As always...” Michael tucked his hands into his pockets, folding into his own body. “... it’s been a laugh riot.”

Brian couldn’t believe how pissed Michael was. “You don’t want me to come in anymore?”

“Do... or don’t. I’m exhausted. If you want to continue meandering down The Pitts’ highways and streets, splattering yourself all over the asphalt... be my guest. I can’t babysit you all night...” Michael was about to walk away before he realized how late... or early it was. “... or day.”

“Whoa! Hey! Hold on, young whippersnapper!” Brian moved to quickly block Michael’s path. “What about...?”

“What about WHAT, Brian? If you’ve got some death toll ringing in your head, by all means answer it. I’m not gonna sit eagerly by your side and pretend to participate.” Michael fished inside his pockets for his keys.

Brian didn’t like it when he knew he was losing Michael’s complete attention. No matter what he did, or how he acted, he knew he needed Michael as long as he could have him. “I’m sorry.”

Michael shut his eyes. That wasn’t his point. He didn’t want Brian apologizing to him. He was momentarily filled with sadness over the sound of Brian’s voice. “Don’t think you have to apologize to me.” He opened his lids, gazing directly into Brian’s face. “I don’t... I don’t exactly know, or want to find out too soon, what my life would be like without you...”

Brian didn’t let Michael finish. He wrapped him in an enveloping hug, using both arms secure at the back. “Boring as all fuck... probably.” He teased, burying his face in Michael’s shoulder and neck.

Michael chuckled, his nose smooshed to Brian’s jacket. “ ***I*** am glad you’re here, if that helps.” Even if the rest of the world thinks your shit.

Once Brian could feel Michael’s arms about him, he was relaxed into knowing all was well, though Michael was still a tad bit upset.

Michael stood on tip-toe to raise his arms, surrounding Brian’s neck. “I can’t count the number of times I’ve thanked God for you, ya’ know.”

Brian knew what Michael was conveying to him, lifting his downtrodden spirits, as always. Michael was proud Brian had been born. “You’re the best one-man cheering section, Mikey.”

“I’ll keep doing it until you tell me to stop... or you finally hear me.”

“ ‘S gonna be one long wait.” Brian held onto Michael tighter, nearly lifting him up, swinging him around to the small landing that led up the steps to the front door of the apartment complex. He wished he could do more... but knew the limits for tonight.

*******************************************

Michael had told Brian he’d be right back. That had been fifteen minutes ago.

Slipping into something more comfortable, my ass!!

Finishing up clearing away their dishes and placing them in the sink, Brian swallowed the last of his soda... had some more chips. He strolled over toward Michael’s bedroom doorway.

One of the double doors closed, the other was ajar.

Brian placed a five-fingered push on the paneling, slowly opening the door the rest of the way. He couldn’t help laughing at the sight before him.

Michael had kicked away enough dirty clothes to clear a path to his bed... and that was about as far as he’d gotten. Arms sprawled above his head, Michael was dead asleep. He must have sat down at the end of his mattress, prepared to start undressing by taking off his jeans. Sure they were unsnapped, zipper half-way open. There were lounging sweat pants laying by Michael’s face to replace the jeans.

Brian shook his head, knowing what had to be done. On his knees, he crawled over, grabbing for Michael’s feet to begin with the shoes. He untied them, slipped them off, then peeled off the thick, cotton socks. As he bent his head at the task, he folded the material into itself as a ball to rest inside one shoe. Without realizing what had brought him to this point, a lone drop of moisture had fallen, hanging precariously at the end of his nostril. It speckled Michael’s skin, had slipped down Brian’s eye, the tear taking a wild turn as he bent over Michael’s feet and traced the curvature of Brian’s nose. He could see another follow, so he wiped away the proof.

Kinney's weren’t pussies. No! No way!

Brian could only attribute the show of tears from the excess of emotions he was feeling. Love and hate mixing inside of him as always. The over abundance of love for one person overtaking his body, feeling humbled at the sight and beauty of a feeling he thought once foreign to him and not his cup of tea.

These moments continued to make Brian stop and second guess being too proudful and such an egomaniac. That when Brian stripped himself of all his veils and masks... he was the spitting image of Michael inside and out. That when he lovingly teased Michael about being sad and pathetic, he was actually admonishing his own faults.

Settling closer to Michael, Brian sniffed once, wiping under his nose. His hands finished where Michael’s hands stopped. He knew if he spoke clearly enough, he could still be heard. “Lift up, hon-...” He paused, realizing he almost called Michael an endearment that wasn’t his trademark nickname. “... uh, Mikey...”

The limp body complied, arms coming down to set next to Michael’s hips.

Brian tugged the jeans off, never noticing Michael’s painful wince. He took his sweet time to appreciate the moment. Michael usually did this for him. Drunk, high or both, never from pure exhaustion. He didn’t know exactly where he’d be either if Michael hadn’t been consistently there for him. Unconditionally giving and never demanding a thing in return. He yanked the jean material down Michael’s legs, grappling for the ankle cuffs, making sure to fold the jeans properly for the dirty pile of clothes he was making.

The second Brian turned his head back to glance at Michael, he paused lost in the pure allure of the resting form. How peaceful and content Michael looked. How even in sleep the world had no bad people and happier endings could be envisioned through Michael’s eyes and flowing out his imagination.

Unconsciously, Michael lifted his right hand to scratch and rub at his jaw line. He must have thought he was laying quaintly in bed, under blankets, tucked away safely and no one around to catch him. The hand traveled down his chest, flexed about his abdomen, tickling dark hairs and then settling upon the dormant bulge under the tight cotton briefs.

Brian hesitated, transfixed on what a sleeping Michael could do to touch himself. He wished to replace Michael’s hand with his own. Give the unselfish gift of his love that came so easily to Michael. He stopped, because he ached from the knowledge that every idea about *love* was ultimately connected with sex and fucking.

Taking advantage of Michael, treating him like any other man he’d take home gave Brian a second of reflection. With Michael... sex was never the answer. Sure it was part of the equation and hopefully a good portion of the answer, but it wasn’t everything. Feelings for Michael, and his for Brian, didn’t hinge on whether he was a good lay or not. His love wasn’t built on sex with Michael.

Yes, of course he was attracted to Michael, had been for years. But the fear of ruining something special... something tangible... something real with his best friend. This problem kept him at bay in pursuing anything more.

Maybe in the longrun, toward the distant future, Brian might end up losing Michael in some other fashion; another man, different chosen paths or basic Life moving on and separating them... but he vowed not to be a major catalyst in pushing Michael away.

Brian stood, bending over to grab for Michael’s hands, trying not to come anywhere near the undershorts. “C’mon, Mikey... let’s get you ready for bed.”

“Mmmm’kay.” Michael wearily mumbled, wiping at his drooping lids. He blindly, with such confidence to Brian being right there, placed his fingers in Brian’s hands. The lift-up was sluggish because Michael had been sleeping in a strange position... and had to favor the one hip. “B’careful.” He made a face of pain, trying not to put one foot on the ground to feel the spikes of torture shoot up his leg.

What... The Hell??!!

Brian’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. He stretched out their joined hands, looking Michael over. When had Michael hurt himself? Couldn’t have been by Brian’s own hands. He had never been that rough... or had he been and not been sober enough to recall?

“Michael, how did you...?” Brian took Michael’s hips in his grasp, turning his body into the light to make out the redness he could already see for his own eyes.

Michael let a smirk out as he reached down for the hem of his Tee. “C’mon... Sonnyboy...” He changed his tone to sound gravelly, just like Jack’s. On the second the shirt came over Michael’s head, he pretended to send a bunched fist into Brian’s biceps, demonstrating what had happened.

Simply put... Jack had thought, for smidgen of time, that Michael was Brian, sending out his usual greeting of welcome. Those ridiculously childish, heavy-laden painful jabs to the body. When Jack was three sheets to the wind he never knew his own power and strength. The quick, teasing punches left plenty of hidden reminders for Brian. But this time...

... a hit meant for Brian had been taken by Michael... and Brian saw red.

Why the fuck hadn’t Brian seen it? When the hell had it happened?

Michael tipped precariously backwards... his shirt thrown toward the other clothes strewn on the floor.

Brian awoke his blurred mind to swing an arm about Michael to catch him before he fell. He quickly pulled Michael close, holding him to his chest, afraid to let go.

Michael giggled, tucking his hands between their chests. “Mmmmm... m’knight in rusty armor...” He mumbled into Brian’s shirt, smelling his scent all over the material. He reached up to press his mouth to Brian’s jaw.

“Michael, no... I...” Brian tried to correct Michael faster, but the dark head began to droop, lopping forward and the body going lax in his arms. “... don’t deserve that...” Christ!! He was attempting to be in the Now to take care of Michael, shuffle through his past demonic memories of Jack while despising his father even more then before.

Jack had harmed something of his... and Brian had been powerless to prevent it from happening.

Suddenly discovering he wasn’t much of a hero like Michael always thought he was, Brian felt in a weird position of worthlessness. Another sign that he wasn’t a great choice of being some child’s father.

Catching his breath and thinking fast, Brian bent to sweep Michael into his arms. He was gentle enough not to jar the injured hip. He pushed his way through the piles of dirty clothes, walking over some. He carried Michael, cradled in his arms, close to his heart and tenderly rested him on his back. He made sure Michael had a pillow to catch him. He drew over an extra pillow to prop under the bruised hip.

Standing straight to look down at Michael, lost in slumber, Brian could fully see the discoloration starting to form beyond the redness of the delicate skin. The clear shape of a bunched hand, the prominent darker inner circles of where the knuckles had met flesh and bone.

Brian... needed out... He could barely breathe in Michael’s bedroom. He searched the apartment for a basket. Shit! The least he could do was a load of wash for Michael or begin the lost treasure of clean clothes. He had to have fresh air or he’d empty his stomach contents anywhere but the bathroom. He filled the wicker basket and found the laundry detergent stored near the kitchen on top of the make-shift closet. He shut and locked the apartment door, pocketing the keys.

The stuffy air in the hall was dissatisfying for his lungs. He knew the washroom of the apartment complex would have an open area he could inhale some cool air from, maybe smoke some nicotine to calm his nerves. He started the load with no emotion overtaking him, lit a cigarette until the washer stopped. He dried the clothes in under a half-hour making his way back upstairs. In total... probably gone only a little over one hour.

As Brian stepped back inside the apartment, he set the basket of laundry on the table, quickly moving toward the bathroom. The shock of chilly air downstairs had been a relief to his heated face from anger and the gnawing nausea from fear and loathing... for Jack and himself. He thought he was done, but apparently not...

Brian wanted to see if Michael had any pain relievers left in the medicine cabinet. Once the bathroom door shut, he noticed the bottle of Ibuprofen already out, a glass near the sink. He bit his lip in frustration.

Michael had been caring for himself... all this time. That explained the sleepiness more.

Brian still opened the cabinet door, checking for anything else that might help Michael. Give Brian a sense of some purpose. He sure didn’t feel like he’d been there for Michael at all. He was about to close the mirrored door, but instead decided to slam it shut.

Opening it again, then slamming it shut again.

Brian did this as many times as it made him feel better, letting out stress and anger. If he went back to Michael’s bed, he wanted to crawl in without an ounce of hate in his body. So while he slammed a few things around, never breaking anything, but pounding on cheap plaster and ceramic tiles... he went on until he felt like he might have annoyed or woken up Michael’s neighbors.

Brian reached inside the shower stall to turn on the water. He made the temperature as cold as possible. The time was now to finally wake up... he’d been sobered up enough. He yanked off all his clothes, throwing them to the floor... just like Michael would have probably done. He bit at his lips to the chilled sensation of cold water cascading down his hot skin, but it was the least amount of pain he would feel tonight... that and his aching heart...  
 _  
Oh... Michael... I'm so fuckin' sorry..._

*****************************************

Brian didn’t care how he was dressed. He climbed under the covers naked with Michael, drawing the warm sleeping form close to him to help generate some warmth. Start anew for a brand new day. He secured every limb he could about Michael, paying close attention to the hip.

Michael wearily reached back to rub at Brian’s cheek, fingers tracing the jaw line.

Brian shut his eyes in peacefulness.

“Glad you’re back. Missed you.” Michael kissed the air, as if he was kissing Brian.

Brian placed his hand over Michael’s on his face, giving Michael the hand to hold to his chest. “I’m better. Go back to sleep.”

“You here to stay?”

“Seems like it.” Brian tucked a leg between Michael’s. Their feet soothed up and down each other's legs.

“Cool. Gotta be up at ten or so tomorrow. Only a four hour shift at the Q.” Michael sighed, content in Brian’s arms. “Then we can spend the rest of the day together.”

Brian had shut his eyes, his lips pressed to Michael’s naked shoulder. He spoke on the flesh. “I like the sound of that... very much.” He watched Michael fall back asleep, a sly grin on his mouth. He took a moment to brush through Michael’s hair, spreading it out on the pillow case. “If only... if only you knew, Michael...” Brian leaned over to set his lips on Michael’s brow, nudging his nose on the indented frown lines. “I’ve never stopped loving you... and I never will...” He closed his eyes, savoring the saltiness of Michael’s skin... happy to be saying the words even though Michael might not have heard them.

Brian knew Michael could read him better then anyone... and words weren’t important...

*******************************************

The alarm was what woke up Michael first.

The next was not being able to see Brian... anywhere... laying beside him.

Then Michael felt the tufts of breath on his abdomen. He raised the comforter and blankets to discover Brian’s cheek resting on his belly, fingers splayed over his pelvis and hip bone. He reached down to softly pet the mahogany hair.

Brian squeezed him tighter still. He was on the hip that had been roughed up last night... or early this morning.

Michael let out a long breath, knowing that Brian had finally seen the evidence he was going to try and keep hidden.

Too late now.

The third thing that kept Michael awake was the phone ringing. Unfortunately, he had to get up to answer it. That made him frown. Brian was an excellent conductor of heat and losing that would freeze him. The apartment always seemed chillier at night into morning. He successfully pulled himself from under Brian’s keeping, letting the blankets still hide Brian’s sleeping form. He now hugged the pillow Michael’s hip had been sitting on.

Michael was about ready to kick clothes out of his way, but found he could see his entire carpet, forgetting what color it actually was. What had Brian done? He scurried into the kitchen, his hip feeling slightly more active.

“Uh... Y’ello...” Michael cleared his throat of the thickness in his windpipe.

“Michael... it’s Melanie...”

Michael sat back on the shelving unit. “Yeah...” Shit! “I’m listening.” He crossed one arm over his belly, tucking the fingers under his arm pit. He let Melanie speak to him... because he had no idea what to say... or how to react... “Holy shit...” was pretty much all he could get out of himself.

Melanie laughed and hung up shortly, figuring just to inform Michael... so he could tell Brian. She mentioned that Lindsay couldn't reach him.

Which Michael did about two minutes later when he let the information finally sink in. He’d been sitting on the couch, wrapped in a quilt contemplating how exactly to tell Brian the news. He could faintly hear the coughing, the sniffles, as Brian was beginning to wake up.

The gentle call of his name was what drew him over, finally finding courage.

“Brian... I’m right here...”

Brian was resting back on the head board. Hair in chaotic tangles, face red in certain places, his eyes unfocused. “Did I hear the phone ring? The Big Q-ueen need your services earlier then thought?” He wearily rubbed at his face, pulling the covers up over his body, feeling the stirring of dormant pleasure from his dreams.

Michael leaned on his open door frame, crossing his arms over his chest, keeping the quilt around his cold body. He couldn’t wait to get back into bed with Brian. It looked warm and inviting. “Nah... actually I called them. Told them I was sick.”

Brian was quick at attention. “Is it your...?”

“No...” Michael shyly dropped his eyes. He didn’t know if he could do this right without breaking out in constant smiles of joy. “I... uh, figured that the shift would ruin my plans with you, so I called out.”

“What plans?” Brian had no idea on anything Michael wanted to do. He thought they were simply going to wing it.

“Well... didn’t you say the second you’d ever decide to become a Daddy and Lindsay would tell you the good news... you’d visit the zoo and probably go live with the monkeys... because that would mean all hell was gonna break loose and utter destruction would ensue to the world as we know it?”

“Damn... you remembered ALL that...” Brian chuckled, but then paused. Had he just been told...? “Was that Lindsay?” His eyes widened in complete shock and fear.

“No, Mel... Dad...” Michael proudly stated, the goofiest grin on his face. He climbed on top of his mattress and jumped up and down. “My best friend’s a father!! My best friend’s a father!!” seemed to be his favorite chant. Then he soon broke into. “And your’s sucks!! And your’s sucks!! Cause he’s awesome!! Cause he’s awesome!!”

“Mikey... Mikey... Michael! Settle down... your hip...” Brian tried to catch Michael before he fell, but it was a lost cause. He let Michael crumble into the mass of comforter, the giggling quite addictive. “Wow! You’re happier then I thought you’d be.” After all the weeks of Michael’s grumbling his distaste... somehow he knew the minute the baby was real... Michael would love it, the mere idea of it and the fact that it was a part of Brian.

Laying on his back, vulnerable to Brian’s fingers, Michael looked over at the frowning face. “Wow!" He shook his head in amazement. "Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what to feel, Michael.” Brian massaged Michael’s hips and thighs, rubbing at the soft skin. “You didn’t have to call in sick.”

Michael crawled up to straddle Brian, sitting on his lap, his legs encircling the trim waist. “Yes... I did. You’re worth it. You sure as hell wouldn’t ask me to do it, so I did it myself. You and I are gonna do something special today to make this day important. You created a life, Brian.” He tried to shake some sense into his friend’s head, wanting him to be at least slightly overjoyed. “You did something good for this world. Something to be proud of... something to be thankful for. A fresh mind to bring into our lives. Someone who doesn’t know you, but one you can allow in. Now that... is pretty cool, don'cha think?”

“I don’t know, Michael. Maybe you’ve been right all along.” Brian tried to glance away from Michael’s penetrating eyes.

Michael broke out the hand-upside-the-head move in perfect ceremony. “Excuse me!”

“Ow! Michael... don’t remind me of what I’ll have to face later on.” Brian favored the side of his head, letting Michael hug and kiss it better. He wrapped himself about Michael, holding him close on his lap. He still thought to soothe the aching hip bone that was injured.

“Well... I don’t care how much you poop all over my party... I’m celebrating this great day... and I am dragging you with me.” Michael thought how wonderful this would be if they did this every morning. Woke up to each other and spent a few hours before they both headed off to work. “ ‘Cause, sweetie, when that baby’s here... I’m gonna hug him...” A hug and one kiss to Brian’s left eye. “... then I’m gonna squeeze him...” A squeeze and a second kiss to Brian’s right eye. “... then I’m gonna tickle him...” He set his fingers to almost tickle, but instead he just gave two kisses to Brian’s nose, which made Brian snicker. “... and then I will love him and snuggle him and wish that he were mine...” So Michael continued to show Brian what he’d do to his newborn son.

Brian let them fall over onto his back, Michael on top.

“He will be yours... in a round about way.” Brian furrowed his brow. “And why are you so sure it’s a boy? Five seconds in this world... and you already know it’s sex?”

Hovering over Brian’s face, Michael caressed the back of his hand down Brian’s cheek, liking the rough stubble. “I wanted a boy.” Crap! That sounded possessive. “I wanted you to have a son.” Then he thought about the way Brian had spoken. “All this time... you’re hoping for a girl?”

Brian shut his eyes, leaning into Michael’s continual touch to his face. Shit it was too embarrassing to admit to, but... he supposed it was true. “I like boys for different reasons. Don’t really want to raise one.”

Michael nodded his head. “Brian...” He crooked his elbow next to Brian's left ear, resting his head on the hand. He fixed his body to lay with Brian’s. The blankets and quilt between them. He brushed back Brian’s bangs, combing through the messy hair. “What did you mean by... the baby being mine, too?” He had to admit his mind couldn’t  
wrap around that thought. His thumb traced Brian’s full lips, feeling the puckering tiny kisses.

“Well...” Brian grab the wandering hand to hold to his heart. “... you’re mine... as I will always be yours...” He raised his eyes to meet Michael’s. “So... natural progression would assume that...”

“What’s yours is ours.” Michael finished and lay his head next to Brian’s on the bed.

Brian couldn’t have said it better if he tried.

Michael quickly climbed back under the covers with Brian, not caring that he was still completely naked and possibly hiding a woody. He needed to be close. He wanted to be closer, but this would be enough to last for awhile. He entangled his legs with Brian’s, tucking his body near, and under the protective hold. He felt the kiss to the top of his head and the mouth sliding down to his temple. He hid his face in the curves of Brian’s neck and shoulder bone.

Somehow they had silently decided to sleep in. The day might be celebrated right in this apartment, with take out food and rental flicks at their ready.

Michael didn’t care as long as Brian was with him.

Both men about to nod off to sleep, soothing one another in their embraces... the middle of some song broke out from within Emmett’s room.

Must have been when Emmett had last been here and set his bedside alarm clock to wake himself up to catch his flight going out of Philly.

Brian and Michael lay, wakeful again. Brian’s fingers entwining in Michael’s ebony locks, Michael tenderly caressing Brian’s rib cage and the skin under his hands along the back.

They listened to the music and the lyrics, quickly recognizing the song by a few lines.

 _“I thought I loved you for a million years,  
And if I thought our love was ending,  
I'd find myself drowning in my own tears. _

_You are the sunshine of my life,  
That's why I'll always stay around,  
You are the apple of my eye,  
Forever you'll stay in my heart,_

 _You must have known that I was lonely,  
Because you came to my rescue,  
And I know that this must be heaven,  
How could so much love be inside of you?”_

Michael hid his face further into Brian’s chest, kissing the flesh under his chin. He rubbed his cheek over the warmth and savored the feel of the beating heart.

Brian let out a contented sigh, having to agree with the song. He kissed Michael’s brow again. His other hand reached down to draw Michael’s leg over his thighs, gripping the thickness of flesh in his palm.

It wasn’t long before both men realized it wasn’t the radio, since no announcer broke through the tunes. Emmett must have set up his CD player in the alarm clock feature. They calmly listened to the CD playing in the distance knowing at some point it would shut off and get tired of trying to wake somebody up.

Another song came through... helping rip Brian to shreds... Michael there to catch him... as he sobbed in his arms. He hid them under the covers, soothing and wiping away the tears as he kissed the pain and loss to finally disappear... but tried to infiltrate the thought of love and possibilities into the future with his son.

Michael knew it would be a son... because even though life was sometimes unfair, sometimes it just seemed so... right...

**********************  
 **You & I** _by Stevie Wonder_  
**************************  
 _Here we are on earth together,  
It's you and I,  
God has made us fall in love, it's true,  
I've really found someone like you,_

 _Will it say the love you feel for me, will it say,  
That you will be by my side  
To see me through,  
Until my life is through,_

**Well, in my mind, we can conquer the world,  
In love you and I, you and I, you and I, **

****_I am glad at least in my life I found someone  
That may not be here forever to see me through,  
But I found strength in you,  
I only pray that I have shown you a brighter day,  
Because that's all that I am living for, you see,  
Don't worry what happens to me. _

_Cause' in my mind, you will stay here always,  
In love, you and I, you and I, you and I, you and I  
In my mind we can conquer the world  
In love, you and I, you and I, you and I  
*********************************************_

 _  
_ **~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~The End... to An Eventual Beginning (** we hope ? **)......**

 


End file.
